The Sounds of The Silence
by Jet Wolf
Summary: What happened to Usagi when she faced Pharaoh 90? The Senshi don't know, and Usagi can't tell them. (Part one of a five part series)


**Standard disclaimer:** The characters aren't mine. This should come as no surprise. I am simply a teller of stories that occasionally claw their way desperately out of my head.

**Notes:** What happened to Usagi when she forced her way into a fight she was never supposed to see? How can her loved ones help her? How can she possibly tell them? (This will be a five-part series of ficlets, one for each of the Inner Senshi and Mamoru.)

_(4 February 2014)_

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**The Sounds of The Silence**

**Rei**

Usagi being late was a given.

They'd been friends long enough now to know that Usagi's tardiness was an immutable force. Trying to change it was like trying to convince winter to take a year off. Winter wasn't ever going to stop coming, and Usagi was never going to not be late.

It was an unspoken agreement, but her friends had simply started adding time. Today, for example, they wanted to eat before the movie. Noon was a good time, so they told Usagi 11:30. Even with this arrangement she was late as often as not, but usually only by a few minutes. On some rare occurrences, she was even (technically) early.

Today was not an early day. The adjusted meeting time came and went. The actual meeting time passed without sign. As the clock ticked toward quarter-past, there was no denying it. It had happened again.

The only question anybody cared about now was, where had Usagi gone this time?

Rei was sure she knew. Maybe it was her psychic powers, maybe just an old-fashioned hunch. Whatever it was, she knew.

"Go ahead to the movie," she told the others. "If I'm wrong, I'll call you."

Nobody wanted to. Mako ground her teeth together in frustration and looked like was going to argue it, but at Ami's calming hand, the fight drained out of her. Minako held Rei's gaze for a long moment before nodding. The three of them left Crown, all the excitement of a summer's day spent together, lost.

But there was nothing else to be done. They'd all learned the hard way that at times like these, Usagi couldn't do crowds. Nobody cared about the movie anymore, but at least it would give them something they could pretend to do while worrying.

When Rei arrived home, she knew she was right. The emotions hammered into her like waves against a rocky shoreline. Hopelessness and anxiety and a half-dozen other jumbled feelings Rei didn't have words for. She pushed through them, let them lead her to the source.

There were a few patrons milling about the shrine, somehow not reacting to the emotions that were flooding the area. Rei wondered how it was possible that they didn't feel Usagi. But maybe this, too, was just a by-product of Rei's gifts. She had no idea if the others connected to Usagi like this, actually feeling a fraction of what she felt. None of them talked about what it was like when she came to them. It was like even acknowledging it to each other was a betrayal of the deepest trust.

Rei shook her head. It didn't matter. Only Usagi mattered.

The door to her room slid open quietly, allowing a rectangular shaft of light to penetrate the darkness. Rei stepped over the threshold, closed the door behind her, and waited for her eyes to adjust. The curtains were closed this time. Sometimes the dark terrified Usagi. Other times, she wanted to hide in it. There was no way of predicting what she would need, so Rei always left the sashes holding her curtains undone and let Usagi decide.

Today, Usagi had decided on darkness.

Rei still couldn't see her, but knew she was there. Usagi knew Rei was there too; Rei felt the surge of relief when she'd come in. Still no sounds though. Usagi was trapped in one where she couldn't talk, then.

Dammit!

Rei swallowed back a sob and swiped angrily at her eyes. She would indulge later, maybe.

A movement and the tiniest of whimpers couldn't have caught Rei's attention faster if they were stars flaring in the night sky. She stepped further into the room and peered around her bed.

Usagi had wedged herself between Rei's bed and the bookcase. It was an impossibly small space, but then impossibly small was exactly how Usagi looked. She huddled there, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

The smile probably couldn't be seen in dim light. Rei smiled anyway. She let her warmth and comfort flow. She never knew if Usagi felt it, but if there was even a tiny chance she did, Rei would take it. She would've poured out every ounce of herself, emptied herself completely, if it would help.

Slowly – the most agonizing slowness, reaching a level of patience that would've surprised anyone who knew her – Rei lowered herself to the floor. She sat on her shins but didn't reach out. She simply sat in the dark, supplicant, as she might sit before the Sacred Fire.

Then Rei began to sing.

She wasn't sure what made her sing that first time. Desperation, maybe. She had to do _something_. Words weren't working, so she turned to her other language, the one where she could say all the things she didn't know how to say. Soon, Usagi had been able to move again, and had kissed her cheek, and cried in her arms. Now, Rei no longer wasted time on words.

She forged a channel between her heart and her voice, and waited.

How long? It didn't matter.

She felt Usagi's hand on her leg and reached out. Her voice didn't falter as Usagi seized it and held on, like it was her only weapon against an army of terrors.

Her voice didn't waver as Usagi laid her head in Rei's lap and stayed there, the simple movement thoroughly exhausting her.

Her voice didn't tremble as she ran her fingers through Usagi's hair, willing her touch to heal the fractures left by Pharaoh 90.

She would never stop trying to do more, but for now, she simply did this.

Rei kept watch over her Princess, and sang.


End file.
